At work, my coworkers and I started a book exchange. So far I’ve been lending out more books than I’ve been borrowing, but that’s because I have an insatiable love for library books that keeps my shelf full. In lieu of reading books my coworkers recommend, here are some internet options:
What Should I Read Next? is a website where you input a book’s title and author and it’ll come back with a list of recommended books that you may like as voted by their members.
GoodReads lets you add all the books you can recall reading along with the books currently in your bookshelves. I’m slowly working on filling mine out. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the titles of many of the 1000+ books I’ve read since I was five.
The Blizzard struck while I was in the second grade at Black Mountain Primary. They dismissed class and we rode home on the bus with the Blizzard coming down hard. My brother and I were dropped off on the main road in Montreat. Keith was only in first grade with our respectative ages being six and seven years old. We trudged up the road then up the mountain where we lived. Mom was at home asleep with our baby sister, who was only four years old at the time.
After the Blizzard blew itself out, my brother and I volunteered to help dig cars out of the drifts in all our excitement. The shining moment for me was that I made a snow sculpture of my mom’s new boyfriend’s head. Mom complimented me and I thought that I would like to do some more sculpturing someday. The other was that my class submitted short pieces about the Blizzard which was published in the local newspaper, the Black Mountain News. I had a copy of it up until about ten years ago when it was lost while moving.
(I should mention that the last time my area had REAL snow that kept us out of school for a week was the Blizzard of ’93. It’s still the biggest snowstorm in local memory in that a couple years ago, I was assigned to do a “listening” project and jot down people’s conversations. At the bus terminal downtown, a young gentleman admited to an older gentleman that he was new to town. The local immediately told him the harrowing tale of the Blizzard of ’93. It was that good.)
Today I start paying back my Federal Stafford Loan. It’s not a huge amount for which I’m thankful, but repayments sucks. On the upside, this is the only debt I owe anyone besides monthly bills like utility.
I’ve watched 18 episodes from season one of Scrubs tonight. Before that, I brought my friend’s daughter a sketchpad and an artist’s kit of assorted art supplies. She insisted I knew nothing about art and I have to say, that at four, she may be right. A painting called “Crayon” for instance might be the truest thing I can think of.